


The time Patton Sanders got jealous of Doctor Who

by mistakeandcheese



Category: Doctor Who, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angry Morality | Patton Sanders, Angst and Humor, Body Image, Cookies, Cute, Cute Ending, Doctor Who References, Insecure Morality | Patton Sanders, Jealous Morality | Patton Sanders, M/M, Morality is harder on himself than he is on others, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, Morality | Patton Sanders Has A Crush, Morality | Patton Sanders Tries, Nerd Logic | Logan Sanders, Pre-Relationship, Sad Morality | Patton Sanders, Stress Baking, baking mishaps, let patton be flawed but still good, logan is a doctor who fanboy, logicality - Freeform, patton sanders has negative emotions too, patton thinks logan is cute when he's geeking out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:01:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistakeandcheese/pseuds/mistakeandcheese
Summary: When Patton catches Logan in the act of leisure time, he decides to drop in. What could be better than a Doctor Who marathon with Logic?Or the better question--what could go wrong?
Relationships: Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 4
Kudos: 63





	The time Patton Sanders got jealous of Doctor Who

It was rare for Thomas’s logical side to watch TV. When the sides were left to their own devices within the Sanders Mind Palace, Logan tended to retreat to his own room, to read, work, study, and do whatever else it was he did with his own devices. So the night Patton stumbled across the sight of Logan sitting on the corner cushion of the sofa of the common room, one knee draped over the other and blue light paneling his face as he fiddled with the remote, he felt the same thrill as if he had caught an elusive animal in the act of--well, doing whatever it is elusive animals do when nobody is watching them.

“Well hey, Friendo! Fancy seeing you here!” 

Logan jolted and fumbled the remote, which Patton felt a little bit bad about because he maybe didn’t have to yell so loudly when he was standing kind of behindish and kind of nearbyish. 

Logan shot him a scowly sort of look and picked the remote off the floor, before clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses composedly. "I was about to...watch TV." He answered cautiously. "As it is important for me to practice processing examples of fictional logical processes and to stay up to date with current cultural references." 

Patton pressed back a little chuckle at the way Logan somehow felt he had to tack on a practical reason for enjoying some leisure time. "Well, that sounds like quite the serious business you've got going on there! What show is it?" He asked, ambling over to the sofa's edge and leaning over to watch Logan boot it up. 

"Doctor Who."

"Oh! Doctor Who! You love that show! Mind if I drop in for a little while? See what all the hype is about?” He chuckled and shimmied his shoulders playfully. “Do a little--processing of fictional logical processes along with ya?"

Patton was generally more of a cartoon and/or rom-com man than a sci-fi guy, but he had no issue with expanding his horizons a bit--especially if it meant an opportunity to hang out with Logan.

Logan gave him one somewhat guarded glance, as if still pondering if he was at risk of not being taken seriously after admitting that he could loosen up and enjoy a TV show every once in a while. “I see no reason to object to your presence. Unless you disrupt the figurative flow of the show, as they say."

Patton beamed and settled down on the other corner of the sofa, looking forward to a wonderful spacey evening with one of his super coolest friends. It really was so nice when he and Logan got to do regular, fun things together! (Seriously why didn't they hang out more often? Well, maybe seeing each other for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and living in the same mind palace, and being parts of the same person counted for something. But certainly not enough!)

Patton hadn’t watched too too much of Doctor Who himself. But that didn’t mean he was completely in the dark! He was pretty sure the show was about a man in a spiffy suit who liked doing math. Kind of like...Bill Nye the Science Guy! But in space. And sometimes in the future.  
As he understood it, there was a fair amount of world saving along the way. That was a pretty good stack of prior knowledge, if he did say so himself.

Still, as the teaser ran through and the theme song began to play, a question bubbled immediately out of his mouth. “What’s that that he’s traveling in? I thought he was a Doctor, not a policeman.”

Luckily, Logan didn’t seem too peeved about getting a question. “It’s his TARDIS, which stands for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. It’s the vehicle he uses to navigate the quadriset of dimensions implied by Einstein's two postulates on Special Relativity.”

Patton blinked a few times, completely boggled by what Logan had just tried to explain to him. He watched the Terdis go through a few loopies of cloudy space before materializing somewhere that seemed to be in the early 19th century. Even if he didn’t get it, he wanted to show that he liked Logan’s show so far and support the other side’s interest, so he said: 

“We-he-hell, he sure does have a cool time traveling spaceship there!”

“Exactly.” Logan replied, with that somewhat self satisfied tone he got after teaching someone something.

Patton decided it was okay to remain confused.

It wasn’t long before he had a different question though. “Who’s that?” he asked, pointing to the red-haired girl who seemed to be having fun adventuring with the Doctor fellow. “A friend?”

“She’s the Doctor’s companion.” Logan answered.

“Oh, so they’re together. That’s sweet!”

“Not necessarily” Logan replied, pushing up his glasses and absentmindedly picking at his hair for a moment. “The term ‘companion’ simply refers to the fact that they travel together. On occasion there is romantic tension between the Doctor and his companion, but in this case the relationship is platonic, with perhaps even a brotherly-and-or-fatherly sentiment, seeing how the doctor met Amy when she was a young child.”

“Oh. Well, that’s extra sweet!”

Logan glanced briefly at Patton, looking like he was on the verge of rolling his eyes, before he changed his mind and glued them back on the screen. "To clarify, the doctor has a biological lifespan far greater than a human's. So he has had a succession of companions over time. Each dynamic varies. There is a sense of romantic attraction in some of them."

He was picking at his hair again.

Patton followed Logan's line of sight back to the screen, to get a look at this doctor guy a little closer.

The Doctor was a tall man with dark hair that went a little bit skyward before folding thickly over the edge of his hairline, standing in contrast to the paleness of the rest of his face. He wore sleek shoes, a brown suit jacket, a white shirt, and red suspenders with a matching bowtie. Well, that was nice! Very color coordinated. 

He was currently explaining something that sounded along the lines of, “You know you can supercede that chameleon circuit if you override the binary coding f o r t h e b l a b l a b l a....”  
Which Patton didn’t understand at all, and didn’t figure he could begin to understand, even if someone explained it to him. Well, that was okay. It didn’t seem like that little line added much to the plot, other than getting across the point that this well-dressed Doctor fellow knew a thing or two about computers. Which was neat! Patton could appreciate computers. Computers sure were neat. Sometimes Patton liked to play solitaire on them.

Patton leaned back in his seat, throwing a little smile at Logan, who was still totally absorbed in the show. It really was nice to see him getting into something so passionately. And for something so… _neat!_ This really was such a neat show. Definitely worth every ounce of attention. Patton returned his attention to the screen.

Oo! Something exciting was happening!

The Doctor was running. Running from something or someone that was chasing him. Neat.  
(Okay, so maybe Patton hadn’t been giving every ounce of his attention, but that was okay. Running! How exciting! He could understand running.)

He watched as the Doctor ran with his long lanky legs, the edge of his suit jacket fluttering in the wind and his shirt underneath straining against his flat-looking stomach.

Oops, enough focusing on that. Time to figure out what was actually happening! “What’s he running from?” Patton whispered, leaning a little closer to Logan.

“Dalleks” Logan whispered back.

Patton smiled a bit. He didn’t know exactly who this Derrek guy was, or why he had sent all these wheely trashcan robots after the Doctor, but he certainly was providing a little excitement to the plot! (What exactly was the plot? Patton wasn’t sure. But he sure was glad to see that Logan was enjoying it!) It was enough excitement to get Logan out of his prim, knees-crossed position and into a hunched forward, knees-tucked-in-a-ball on the center of his sofa cushion, position. His mouth was a little bit open and he looked absolutely enthralled with the characters.  
Patton turned his own attention back to the characters as well. 

He noticed the doctor was still running (or was running again from something new? He wasn’t sure. But wow, did this Doctor fellow fit a lot of running into his day or what!?)

For some reason he had lost his suit jacket and was running without it. Patton felt a little concerned for him! He hadn’t seen a single scene yet of the Doctor getting a bite to eat. And he had been running almost half the time! (Sure, that's kind of how TV worked most of the time. But still!) Before Patton gave it a thought, out slipped: “Wow, that doctor fellow sure is looking a little skinny. Does he get enough to eat?”

He felt a bit bad for blurting it out, but Logan didn’t seem to mind. He responded immediately with: “Of course he does Patton. We all must eat to stay alive, and to function optimally. And as you can clearly see he is functioning...quite optimally.” A little grin was pulling the corner of Logan’s mouth as his eyes trained diligently on the doctor sprinting down a metally-looking hallway, pointing a screwdriver deftly over his shoulder to do something, somehow, to mess up the new robot-y looking things that were so upset with him. 

“Ahm-hm-hm” Patton chuckled, through closed lips. “Well, I’m sure he doesn’t have much time to cook with all that planet saving he does. Does he know how, d’you think?”

“He doesn’t need to. He has a food replicator in his TARDIS.”

“Food _replicator_?”

“Mm-hm” Logan hummed, still completely focused, but beginning to do that bouncing slightly in place side-to-side thing that he sometimes did, as the Doctor sprinted into the blue box of discussion, and slammed the door behind him.

“Well, that’s a terrible shame.” Patton continued, feeling his voice pitch delicately upwards. “He never gets any real food! No wonder he’s so--underfed.”

“Patton, the food replicator replicates food. Its food has all the necessary components of any home-cooked meal.”

“But not love!”

Logan made a little “pf” sound, and didn’t even acknowledge Patton’s point. Well now, _that_ was a little immature of him, for someone who claimed constantly to be such an adult! _Well, he is trying to focus right now. I suppose I shouldn’t interrupt so much and just let him enjoy his show._

Patton decided to be respectful of Logan’s desires, and settled back, ready to just enjoy the moment spending some quality time with Logan, doing something Logan loved doing.

Patton’s eyes lingered a moment on the screen. Well, it looked like the Doctor had made it back to safety with his big blue box. Big surprise there. After all, he was the smart, fast, perfect doctor. And it wasn’t like the writers could just let him die from something like a stray laser. It really wasn’t much of a climax considering the definity of their need to keep him as a character. Which was good! Good. Patton wouldn’t want anyone to die, even if they were just a fictional character. It was just a little bit of a shocker that a little old show like this one could put Logan (of all sides) on the edge of his seat when it was kind of a gimme that each episode would always end up with the same--

No, now he was just being a Negative Nathan. Logan enjoyed this show, and _that_ was what was important. Patton watched the way Logan leaned forward in his seat, smiling slightly as the episode concluded. Then the way he perked up in excitement as the next episode began to autoplay. Then the way how, as the theme song began, he didn’t skip over it, but began singing softly along, lightly bouncing to the beat on the sofa cushion, as if he had completely forgotten that Patton was there, watching him.

Er--watching _with_ him. Watching _with_ him as the doctor began the episode, explaining something about time travel and british food and other things Patton didn’t really understand-- 

Patton glanced in Logan’s direction, and then did a hard double take. 

The bluish light of the television set danced jovially on the panes of Logan’s glasses. And behind those panes? Oh, Lordy. 

Logan’s pupils were blown wide. His cheeks--pink. His eyebrows slightly raised, his lower lip caught under his teeth, a smile in his eyes, and if Patton didn’t know any better, he’d say the embodiment of Logic looked like he was head over heels in l--

\--lalala LA! Isn’t it just so _fun_ to sing when we’re feeling like inadequate human garbage?  
And then the doctor said something, something which was apparently funny--(Patton hadn’t been exactly listening, but he knew it wasn’t a clever pun, that’s for sure) and Logan _giggled._ He straight up _giggled._

Patton stood up quickly, feeling uncomfortably tight and lumpy in his throat. “I think I’ll go bake us something!” He said cheerily. Quick as he could, he left the room.

Logan didn’t say anything about it; he just kept watching.

Patton barely noticed what he was doing as his hands pulled down all the necessary ingredients to bake cookies, the ultimate comfort food.

Urgh. Being Thomas’s heart meant he went through a whole _lot_ of emotions each and every day. But he hadn’t expected to walk in on a campy BBC tv show and walk out feeling like he’d been hit by a train!

_Fast doctor. Smart doctor. Funny doctor. Skinny doctor._

Flour poofed spastically over the edge of the bowl as Patton absentmindedly whisked together the dry ingredients.

_WelI, I sure as heck bet he doesn’t know how to bake up a good batch of cookies!_

_That’s probably why he’s a skinny doctor._

No, no, that was nonsense. What did it matter to Patton?! Looks didn’t matter--looks didn’t mean anything when it came down to matters of heart and soul!

Patton stood blearily next to the microwave, staring into space as he waited for his butter to melt.

He wondered what Logan saw in the doctor. Other of course, than him being fast and skinny and tall and dressed up all professional looking. Well, maybe that _was_ what Logan saw.  
(Patton looked down at his blue polo, which was currently adorned with several large blooms of smudgy flour. He sighed. The microwave beeped.)

But hey now! Of course that wasn’t what Logan prioritized. Logan was smarter than that! He probably noticed what a smarty pants that doctor fellow was. 

_Smarter than me._

Patton felt a painful twist in his chest that nearly made him forget about the hot burning sensation against the pads of his fingers as he took the bowl from the microwave. He sighed again as he measured out some sugar.

The thing was, there were plenty of _other_ smart characters in the show. Plenty of the bad guys, they were plenty smart! They had to be, to compete against the doctor! And Logan didn’t seem to pay much attention to any of them. So what else about that doctor fellow?

_Well, he is pretty heroic and good for always volunteering to rescue the universe._

Patton’s chest hurt as he stirred together the wet and the dry.

_Fast doctor, smart doctor, funny doctor, skinny doctor, heroic doctor, good doctor._

Now wasn’t it just a little unfair for one doctor to get to be all those things at once?!

Patton inhaled sharply when he realized how bitter he was being. Yes. Yes, _of course_ it was okay for someone to be all those things at once. And it shouldn’t bother him, no. Not one bit. Even if it was setting a bit tall of an expectation for your average, non-time-traveling father figment to live up to. It was really not the doctor’s fault that someone like Logan would fall for--

No. No sadness.

He was being silly. He was being ridiculous! Logan had the right to enjoy his show, the right to--(Patton squashed the dough forcefully between his fists) --to have a little innocent _crush_ if he wanted! Patton should just be happy that Logan had an outlet through which to feel that way. After all, he was always trying to look all serious and cold all the time--and he probably didn’t even realize how exactly _opposite_ he looked when he was giggling and blushing and gushing and melting all over the television set. 

Patton pulled out a cookie tray, and began plucking out little chunks of cookie dough so that he could roll them into balls and lay them out, one after the other, in globs that where supposed to be round, and uniform, but were coming out globby and uneven and all a little bit different than the one before them. He could only fit a few onto each tray--he knew they would expand, and despite the oddly tempting idea to cram them all onto one tray and watch them bloat across each other's borders, to become one misshapen, hedonistic mega-cookie, he left the rest of the dough in the bowl for a second batch. Sure it would take longer, but it wasn’t like he really wanted to go back in there any time soon anyways. Which was terrible, because he had really wanted to spend time with Logan, and now he was denying himself the opportunity just because of his own unwarranted, negative feelings!

He sucked in a deep breath and braced his arms against the sink. _No, it’s okay to have negative feelings_ he reminded himself, imagining that he was trying to give council to Thomas or Virgil or Roman or some other person who looked up to him as a source of emotional wisdom. _And it’s okay to pause something you think you should be enjoying but aren’t. Sometimes you just have to take a break from things that bring out sadness._ His own words left him empty though. And he knew the reason--he wasn’t just feeling _sad._ “Sad” was a euphemism for a feeling that, felt a lot more ugly, a lot more immoral, a lot more difficult to admit: jealousy. He was feeling jealous. He was feeling jealous of a fictional, two-hearted alien because Logan seemed to like that two-hearted alien so dang much and he, Patton, despite having just one heart (or rather, being just one heart) was so, vehemently attached to the idea of--smoke. Something smelled like smoke. Something was burning.

Patton jolted out of his stupor and lunged at the oven, tearing open the door and coughing as a big belch of black smoke billowed from within. His babies! His babies were burning! _Hot mit! Hot mit!_ \--None to be seen. Pinching the edge of his shirt in his hands he grabbed the sheet--uttering a number of words he himself would flay Thomas for if he ever caught him saying them out loud--and carried it toward the counter, despite the pads of his fingers pulsing from the breach of metallic heat. He almost made it, but then, just as he was about to deposit the cookie tray into the counter, the edge of the tray drooped down, thus not clearing the edge of the counter but instead bumping against it--and due to this bumping backwards and right into his exposed stomach. He flinched, dropped the sheet, cringing as the metal clanged and cookie and kitchen tile became sadly well acquainted. 

Patton sighed, shoulders sagging as he stooped to pick up his mess. _Jeepers, what a waste_ he thought to himself, feeling extra guilty as he began picking up and tossing out charred bits of cookie. There were starving people in the world, and here he was, baking as a form of stress relief, and not even baking anything worth eating. _Failure on all accounts._

Luckily, Logan hadn’t seemed to notice the noise, and Patton was able to shamefacedly clean up his mess in solitude. _I mean, of course he didn’t notice. He’s busy watching the Doctor._ He could still hear the TV from the other room, the sound of the Doctor being smart and witty and fast and thin and--

 _Ouch!_ He had tried picking up the tray too soon, and burnt his hand--he jolted back and--CRASH--dropped the pan again, then he got up too fast and-- _oof_ \--bonked his head on the edge of the countertop. Oh, he was stupid and clumsy and in pain and so unlike that stupidly smart, fast, skinny, heroic--

_“Stop! Whatever you’re doing, stop it now!”_

For a split second Patton’s blood froze because he imagined it was Logan speaking, Logan either in a panic, in need of help, or Logan with something urgent to say, to help him.  
It was neither, however.

It was that red-haired girl, Amy, from the show: _“You didn’t have to trap it or torture it...If you were that old, and that kind, and the very last of your kind… you couldn’t just stand there and watch children cry.”_

Patton blinked. Uncrumpling himself from the counter, he decided to leave the tray alone for a bit. He walked himself over to the sink, so that he could run his fingers under a cool trickle of water. _Noggin feeling alright there, buddy?_

He took a moment to close his eyes, and think about the sore spot on his head. Did it hurt a lot? Yes, a second ago, but it was already feeling better. _Yup, not a problem, kiddo. Don’tcha worry about your old pop._

He opened his eyes and stared blindly at the deep, galaxy purple of a nearby jam jar. _Fast doctor. Smart doctor. Skinny doctor. Heroic doctor. Good doctor. Kind doctor._

Slowly, a smile crept up his face.

He knew what he was going to do.

*

Patton toed quickly down the stairs, aware that his second batch of cookies was just as susceptible as their fallen brethren to the risk of negligent timing. 

Still not able to find the hot mit, he balled his blue polo up entirely in his hand and took the cookies out carefully, making sure to clear the edge of the counter this time. He tried a piece of one. Hm. Still a bit overdone, but, much improved from the last. Very good! He scooped his creations into a dish, tossed his polo onto a nearby chair, and headed back into the living room.

As Patton approached the sofa again, he could see that end credits were rolling across the screen. Wow, Logan wasn’t so bad a serial watching as he’d have everybody believe! No wonder he hadn’t noticed Patton’s absence for so long. Oh well! All the better for Patton’s plan of action. He bit back a giggle as he crept in stealthily, excited to surprise Logan with his creations.

But then, before he’d gotten up to him, Logan’s voice rang up from the sofa. “I thought you had gotten tired of watching, Patton.” 

Huh. Apparently Logan hadn’t been as oblivious as he’d thought.

He was still facing the TV, however, so the surprise was still a green light! Quick as a timelord,  
Patton popped around the edge of the sofa. Logan’s eyes turned to him, already laced with an unamused flatness. But then... 

Patton bit back a smile as he imitated a playfully serious, british-sounding salutation: “Why Hello there, Logan Sanders. I’ve been looking all over the galaxy for you.”

...Logan’s focus went from Patton’s neatly buckled pants to his button up shirt to his little red bowtie, to his face, where it stayed; and his eyes lit _up._

“Patton!” He exclaimed, drawing his knees to the sofa and bouncing excitedly to face the moral side. “You--you’re cosplay--it’s--”

“That’s _the Doctor_ to you, Mr. Sanders,” Patton corrected, feeling the sun fill his chest as Logan squee’ed excitedly, putting his knuckles up to his mouth to shield his massive smile.

“Now don’t zip away those teeth just yet, Logan! You’ll need them to try the treats I just baked you in the food replicator.” And from behind his back he withdrew a plate of cookies (jelly thumbprints, to be specific) and plopped them on the coffee table. “For the smartest guy in space and time.”

Logan made a quiet, delighted little gasp. “Crofters?”

“Mm-hm.” Patton beamed, nodding goofily, before resuming the little touch of british charm and (with a pose even Roman would be proud of) extending his hand gracefully to Logan. “Would you care to be my companion tonight, Mr. Sanders?”

Logan took his hand, and Patton giggled, hopping onto the sofa cushion beside him. “Want to watch another episode, Logan?” 

“Most certainly, Doctor.” Logan said, reaching for the remote and grabbing a cookie along the way.

The episode began, and Patton watched it, feeling an awful lot less annoyed with the doctor’s smart, fast, perfect self.

“Patton these cookies are optimal.” Logan mumbled through a mouthful, eyes darting from the screen to Patton’s face.

Patton grinned proudly. “Well, I don’t know about that,” he admitted. “But they were replicated with lots of love.”


End file.
